The Confession
by tardisinthesgc
Summary: Young Rory talks to Luke about her father coming to visit.


Eleven year old Rory Gilmore walked into Luke's Diner at the tail end of the afternoon rush. Quiet, head down, she sat at the counter and buried her nose in a book. As the final customer left, Luke suddenly saw her sitting there and came over.

"Hey, kiddo, what can I get you?"

She looked up, startled. "Oh, uh, just coffee, thanks, Luke." She said softly, biting her lip.

He shook his head fondly; those Gilmores and their coffee. Turning, he grabbed her a mug and poured her usual coffee. When he turned back to her, though, he stopped. She didn't look quite right. Setting the cup in front of her, he asked, "Hey, kid, you ok?"

Rory looked up. "What? Oh, no, I'm fine." she said hurriedly.

Luke didn't buy it, not for one second. "Ok, now I _know_ you're lying. What's up?"

She bit her lip. "Oh, nothing, Luke, really. Just stuff for school." She explained quickly.

He raised an eyebrow. "In July?"

She flushed. "Oh, um, right. Sorry, did I say school?"

His face softened. "Look, I don't mean to grill ya, kid, I'm just…concerned." He broke of lamely.

Rory chewed her lip nervously. "I'm fine, it's just…" her voice trailed off.

He looked at her expectantly. "It's just…" he prompted.

"It's just…" she began again. "It's my mom." She blurted.

His brow furrowed in concern. "Lorelai? What's wrong? Is she ok?"

"Yes, I mean no, I mean," she started frantically.

"What's wrong, Rory?" He pressed urgently.

"It's just…it's my dad." She looked down.

Luke's stomach tightened along with his fists. "What about your father?" he asked through clenched teeth.

"I just…I mean, I love seeing Dad, and Mom does too, or at least, I _thought _she did, but now…" she broke off.

"But now…" he said tensely.

"It's just, when I was little, and we'd go see Dad, I was always so excited to see him, and so was Mom, but when we'd get home, she'd always be so sad, depressed. I never connected the two until now. I've been _so stupid!_" she said, suddenly furious.

Luke was furious too, but he tried to stay calm for Rory's sake. "Rory, it's not your fault…" he began soothingly.

"Yes it is!" she objected. "If it wasn't for me, she wouldn't see him anymore, if it wasn't for me, he couldn't hurt her, she'd have gone to college, she'd have finished _high _school! It's all my fault. Everything's my fault." She finished softly, shoulders slumped in defeat.

"No, Rory, it's not your fault." Luke said firmly.

"Yes it is." Rory said quietly, head down.

Luke walked around the counter and put a hand on each of her shoulders. "Rory Gilmore, it is _not your fault,_ do you hear me? It's not your fault. _None_ of this is your fault."

"But if it wasn't for me," she began.

"No. Do _not_ talk like that. Ever."

Rory began to object, but Luke cut her off again.

"_Ever._ _Never _talk like that again."

She bit her lip and said nothing. Suddenly feeling awkward, Luke dropped his hands. He almost went back around the counter when she spoke again, so quietly he almost didn't hear.

"I just wish that…" her voice trailed off as she stared into her coffee mug.

"You wish that…" he prompted gently.

"I just wish that I had a dad who didn't hurt her just by talking to her, by seeing her." She confessed softly, not meeting his gaze.

"Rory," he began gently.

She looked at him suddenly. "No, I mean it. I wish I had a dad that I could see, visit, talk to, have Mom talk to, without her getting hurt. I love Dad, but sometimes I hate him, I _hate_ him!" she said furiously.

"Rory," he said again.

There was no stopping her; she was on a roll. "I mean, really, she sees _you_ every _day!_ _You_ don't hurt her! She doesn't go home and cry after seeing you, she doesn't go to Doosey's to pick up her two best friends Ben and Jerry and go and wallow for three days after eating breakfast here!"

"Rory," he tried weakly.

"I just…" she said softly, energy gone as suddenly as it had come.

"You just what, Rory?" he asked gently.

"It's just, sometimes I wish I had a dad like you. Someone I could talk to, someone who didn't make Mom depressed simply by being in the same room with her. Sometimes I wish _you_ were my dad instead of my _dad_ being my dad." She confessed quietly, gaze fixed on her coffee.

Luke could feel his heart break and melt simultaneously at her words. Suddenly, he found himself pulling her into a hug, her tiny arms wrapping around his waist and hugging him back. "Sometimes I find myself wishing the same thing, kiddo." he whispered into her hair.

They stood like that for a while before Rory pulled back. "Uh, Luke? Could I ask you a favor?" she asked quietly.

"Sure, what is it?" he replied instantly.

"Could you, uh, not mention this to Mom? That I had a meltdown, I mean. I mean, because that's the _last _thing she needs: to think Dad affecting her is affecting me, you know?" she asked hurriedly.

He smiled softly. "Sure thing, kiddo."

She smiled in return as she made her way to the door. "Thanks, Luke, for everything."

"Any time." He replied.

FIN


End file.
